


this way to the train home

by andchaos



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andchaos/pseuds/andchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky take dates to Coney Island, but really, their dates are each other.</p><p>aka that day they reminisced about in cacw except, you know, more gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this way to the train home

**Author's Note:**

> parts of this was inspired by cacw but there's no spoilers at all, I promise. ANYWAY i'm obsessed with these losers at coney island, so, here.
> 
> xoxo

          Coney Island was beautiful this time of year, although Bucky always insisted that it was “beautiful _every_ time of year, Stevie, you just have to bring the right dame along!” (He always tipped a wink here, too—Steve wasn’t sure what it meant. Or he was sure what it meant but he couldn’t admit it aloud, because nowhere was safe except inside his own head.)—“and then she’ll light the Brooklyn skyline right up like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

          Steve never brought girls to Coney Island. Bucky brought girls to Coney, and usually his date brought a friend. Sometimes they didn’t, and Steve had to find a way to drift off inconspicuously so that Bucky would have time to take her on the Ferris Wheel to neck or behind the concession stand to neck or sometimes, if he was feeling really randy, in the port-a-potties (he didn’t do that anymore, not after last time). Then Bucky would find him when he was wandering around a couple hours later and they would head back to their apartment, or else he would take too long and Steve would just head off by himself, reminding himself that Bucky would come back home later and they would forget about the day they had had. Something about crawling into bed with Bucky made Steve forget even the fact that he could smell the faint waft of perfume on Bucky’s skin. He wondered if that’s how his girlfriends felt when they were him, knowing they wouldn’t be first or last, but being okay with it all the same because it was _Bucky_ , and that made everything okay.

          Today, Bucky had a girl on one arm and Steve flanking his other side. The girl—Steve was pretty sure her name was Dot—had a friend that was walking along Steve’s other side, but she was looking at her vibrantly pink nails and not paying Steve much attention at all. He didn’t really blame her.

          “Hey, Buck?” he called.

          Bucky was wearing the smirk he wore when he had the charm turned up to eleven, and his head was tilted down so he could look Dot in the eye—girls always loved that, when Bucky got down to their level when he spoke to them—while he murmured in her ear. He looked over, though, when Steve called his name.

          “Yeah, Stevie?”

          He didn’t even sound annoyed at the interruption. He _never_ sounded annoyed at the interruption, but Steve still gave him credit every time.

          “I’m gonna grab something to snack on,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards where there was some guy set up in a booth, yelling about soda prices. “You want anything?”

          “Nah, I’ll eat later.”

          Steve gave him a wry grin. “So you’ll eat some of whatever I buy?”

          Bucky’s shit-eating grin was somehow more charming than annoying, on him.

          “You said it, not me,” he said, dragging his hands out of his pockets to hold them in the air. Then he slipped his thumbs through the straps on his suspenders, beneath his jacket. He tilted his head back towards Dot. “You want anything, doll?”

          “I’m alright for now,” she said. Steve noticed that though her smile stayed firmly fixed in place, she batted her eyelashes a _lot_ more when she looked at Bucky than she did when she looked at Steve. “You’re gonna win me a teddy bear later, aren’t you?”

          Bucky grinned and slung an arm over her shoulder, nuzzling a little into her. “You betcha.”

          “You can save your coins for that, then.”

          It was harmless flirting, but Steve still looked away. His date (Emilia, maybe) was rifling through her shoulder bag just then, however, and did not spare him more than a cursory glance.

          “I’m fine too,” she said dismissively when he turned his gaze on her.

          Really, Steve was rolling his eyes more than anything as he split off from their small group. From behind him, he heard Bucky call, “Don’t spend the last of what we got, Steve! We need to catch the train home before dark!”

          Steve flapped a hand over his shoulder to signal that he had heard.

          The soda guy was plump and nice and gave Steve a discount since he bought a couple of hotdogs, too. One for him and Bucky to split, and one for the girls if they decided they were hungry after all. Steve had to dig around in his pockets for a bit to find the last of the change for it all, but he managed to unearth the right amount and slid it across towards the man with a wry smile. The guy tipped his hat like he understood, and Steve retreated back into the glaring Brooklyn summer heat, this time with something to at least keep him somewhat nourished as the afternoon faded into evening.

          Bucky and the girls had found a bench to sit on and watch the water. Dot and Emilia were cuddled up to either side of Bucky, who had his arms splayed out across the back of the bench and seemed just peachy with the arrangements. Steve stopped in front of them. He lifted one of the hotdogs up in the air.

          “Somebody order lunch?”

          Bucky reached for it hungrily, and Steve relinquished it at once. Bucky’s fingers lingered on the backs of his for just a second too long, and Steve felt it like a jolt to his system, making him forgive Bucky for who he had to be most of the time. When he held the other hot dog out towards the girls, Dot politely shook her head, but Emilia wrinkled her nose.

          “Actually,” she said, and she gathered her bag close to her side, “I have to get going.”

          “Oh.” Steve shuffled his feet. He looked down, but only for a few seconds this time before he raised his eyes to her face again. Well, at least she had lasted a whole two hours first. “Are you sure?”

          “Yeah,” she said, and this time she managed to add an apologetic lilt to her voice as she got to her feet. “My ma expects me home before seven. Can’t be out and about with strange men _all_ day, she starts to worry.”

          She winked at Bucky, who pretended to blow her a little kiss back. Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, but he couldn’t stop his teeth from gritting. He managed a slightly ironic smile.

          “Who knows what you might get up to,” he agreed. “Might even end up stuck watching the sun set with us, drum up all kinds of romance and danger.”

          Emilia gave a little laugh at that. Dot sat up a little out of the cradle of Bucky’s arm.

          “Do you want me to walk you back home, Em?”

          “I can manage all right on my own,” she said, waving her off. “You worry too much.”

          “Yes, well. I’ve met _you_.”

          The girls shared a smile that was a little like how Steve and Bucky sometimes looked at each other—or how Steve imagined an outside party would see it when they did. It was how Bucky always looked at him, anyway. Steve figured that the girls had years of backstory with one another that he would never know, especially not from just one day out with them.

          “Have a nice night, Emilia,” he said. “Stay safe.”

          Emilia waved at them all as she turned and walked away, her small heels clacking on the pavement. Once she was gone, Steve sighed. He looked back at the two companions that remained.

          Dot was curled back up against Bucky’s side again; Bucky was looking at him. Just as Steve opened his mouth to say that maybe he should be heading home as well, Bucky spoke up before he could.

          “Once more around the Ferris Wheel, champ?”

          He knew Bucky knew what he was thinking. He knew what Bucky was thinking, too: No way was he letting Steve go right now, even if he _was_ third-wheeling (again). Despite the way Dot’s smile had gotten slightly forced, Steve didn’t want to fight outright in public any more than Bucky did. So despite the bone-deep tiredness arching through him, he mustered a smile.

          “Sure thing, pal.”

          He could get through one ride. One ride, then he could go home.

          The line to get on was long, twisting away through the crowd. The three of them got on together, and Steve hated how painfully obvious it was to everyone else what was what, but he wasn’t going to leave Bucky when he was trying to be nice. He just had to keep repeating to himself, _one more ride_. Then he could go home and when Bucky came home later, it would be just the two of them, in the bubble that they were always in inside their apartment. Sometimes dangerous things happened in the bubble, but that was fine too. Outside the bubble they were Steve and Bucky, and inside the bubble they were _SteveandBucky_ , and either way Bucky was there, and Steve would have him whatever way he could get him.

          Inside the bubble was better, though. Inside the bubble, he could get Bucky just the way he wanted to have him.

          Steve smirked a little to himself. He had to remind himself that it was ugly to feel smug just because he got Bucky in ways Dot never would. She was a nice enough girl, and he didn’t like feeling superior just because he had gotten somewhere first. He was lucky, and he knew it.

          The guy running the wheel tried to shunt Steve into the seat after Bucky and Dot’s, but Bucky reached out at the last second, and his fingers drifted over Steve’s hand before circling firmly around his wrist and dragging him, tripping, on board after them. Steve rolled his eyes as the bar came down, trapping them all in there together, and then the Wheel started moving.

          Steve leaned closer to Bucky so that he could be heard better over the other passengers and the noise of the Ferris Wheel.

          “You’re crazy,” he hissed. “You know I don’t mind taking my own cart. You don’t have to give up your… _alone time_ on my account.”

          Bucky shook his head. “I know I don’t,” he said. His hand feathered just barely over Steve’s thigh, and his breath hitched. Then it was gone. “I really don’t mind. And anyway…who said I was doing it for you, huh?”

          Steve flushed. “Buck…”

          Bucky’s hand was back, firmer this time, clutching hard at Steve’s upper thigh. This time it lasted an entire second before he abruptly pulled away and started talking to Dot, but it was enough to momentarily short-circuit Steve’s train of thought, and he forgot to keep arguing.

          He still muttered under his breath, “Jerk.”

          The elbow to his ribs suggested that, just possibly, Bucky had heard him.

          The Ferris ride was slow, and it got a little awkward when it stopped at the top and Dot and Bucky started kissing. Steve got the obligation behind it—after all, who went to the top of the Ferris Wheel and _didn’t_ kiss their girl? Really, he was more relieved that Emilia had gone and they didn’t have to have this awkward moment of _not_ kissing—but it still hurt to see. The worst part was that Bucky couldn’t even do anything to reassure him just yet, because it would be weird not have both his hands on her (right? Steve was pretty sure that was right) while they kissed, so he was just kind of left there feeling really, really awkward.

          The Wheel started moving again (mercifully) and they stopped kissing, at least, but then Steve had to bear witness to them grinning dopily at each other without even speaking. At this point he just crossed his arms and leaned a little further into the corner of the chair, hoping he could evaporate into thin air and not have to bear witness to this anymore.

          Eventually, the Wheel stopped spinning, and they all clamored off together. Bucky and Dot were holding hands and walking a little ways ahead of him, and Steve shook his head as he deliberately ambled behind by a couple of yards. They stopped near the edge of the boardwalk, and Steve came to a halt before he violated the several-yards rule he had instituted for his own sake. They were talking again, and then Bucky was cupping Dot’s cheeks, and then they were kissing again. This one was shorter and sweeter than it had been on the Ferris Wheel, and then Dot giggled and turned in a whirl of skirts.

          “’Bye, Steve!” she said cheerfully as she passed him.

          Steve waved vaguely after her.

          He was still staring in the direction she was walking off towards when he felt someone come up from behind and settle next to him. Steve didn’t have to turn to know it was Bucky; he would know him by the sound of his breaths, and the heat of his skin, and way that the breeze ruffled through his hair. Steve cleared his throat.

          “She wanted to get going to make sure Emilia got home alright,” said Bucky. “Ain’t she cute?”

          Steve snorted and turned to look up at him. Bucky was grinning down at him, rocking back on the heels of his feet with his thumbs stuck into his front pockets. Steve rolled his eyes and looked away.

          “She sure is, Buck.”

          Bucky threw his arm around Steve’s shoulder and jostled him a little, until Steve cracked a smile and looked back at him again. Then, like something unspoken, they let go of one another.

          “Aw, shoot,” said Bucky. In response to Steve’s raised eyebrows, he continued, “I forgot to win her a stuffed animal.”

          “It was a teddy bear,” Steve clarified. “Hey, I think I still got a couple of cents if you want to try your hand at the shot anyway.”

          “Oh yeah?” Right away Steve could tell he was teasing. “She’s gone, Stevie. What’s the use in that anymore?”

          Steve shrugged. “Just figured you would want to get something for your best girl.” He coughed. “Uh, if you ever see her again, that is.”

          Bucky held out his hands expectantly until Steve unearthed a couple more quarters from his pants’ pockets. Without a word, Bucky turned and swaggered away, leaving Steve to catch up in his wake.

          Bucky found a simple game: toss a ball at a stack of cans and see what topples over. Knock over all of them, win a giant panda bear—with the prizes getting steadily smaller and smaller from there on down. Bucky grinned over his shoulder as Steve came up beside him.

          “Just wait ‘til my best girl can see what I can do,” said Bucky, winking.

          Steve rolled his eyes and bumped his hip lightly into Bucky’s. He was smaller than him and had to maneuver strange to get the angle right to do it, but Bucky lit up.

          “All eyes on you, soldier,” said Steve.

          Bucky bumped his hip a little harder back. Then he planted his feet and reared his arm back to take aim.

          “Don’t miss,” Steve teased.

          Bucky’s teeth were gritted; it came out all distorted when he said, “Don’t jinx me, princess.”

          Bucky didn’t miss, but he didn’t hit all of them either. The girl behind the stand popped her gum and told him he could have another try free, but he wouldn’t be able to take the bigger prize if he did worse, so Bucky just shook his head and leaned over to flirt a little bit as she went about unhooking one of the teddies from the top of the booth and passing it over to him.

          “Your gal’s one lucky lady,” said the girl.

          Bucky grinned, the beautiful kind with all of his teeth. Steve was surprised she didn’t melt right through the floor.

          “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know the half of it.”

          Bucky tucked the bear underneath his arm and waved a cheery goodbye to the booth girl, and Steve fell into step beside him as they headed back down the boardwalk.

          “Well, you won’t be winning any medals for your aim,” Steve said wryly.

          “Hey, that was bronze-star material, _at least_.”

          Steve just chuckled and shook his head. Then, after a couple of seconds, he said, “What lucky girl gets the prize then, huh slugger?”

          Bucky turned to look at him. “Eh, we’ll see who catches my eye.”

          They were going to stop for more food, but in the end they realized that they were completely broke on pocket change and decided to eat whatever rice or beans they had in cans in their pantry back at home. They headed out, but when Bucky made to turn in the direction that would lead down to the train station, Steve stopped in the middle of the street. Bucky walked a few more steps before he realized Steve had abandoned him, and he turned, his brow pulled together.

          “What’s up, kid?”

          Steve rubbed at the back of his sunburned neck. “Uh, we sort of can’t take the train.”

          “What? Why? You ain’t feeling sick or nothing, are ya?”

          Steve shook his head quickly. “Nah, nothing like that. It’s just...well…we sort of spent all our pocket change on snacks and games. We’re…well, we’re completely out.”

          Bucky’s eyes went wide. “Steve, you know how—”

          “I know it’s a far walk,” Steve sighed. “Hey, if you want to wait an hour or so, I could probably drum up some change across the street—wait, give me your jacket, it’s more worn than mine is—”

          “You’re not panhandling,” Bucky sighed. “Last time you did that, you got mugged.”

          “Well,” said Steve, feeling a little miffed, “ _you_ aren’t going do it. You don’t have right look to be homeless. More like a goddamn sports star.”

          Bucky shrugged. “Alright, I guess we’re walking.”

          Steve paused, alarmed. “Bucky, that’s far. And you have to be up for work at the docks in the morning.”

          “And you have to be up tomorrow to go the store. What’s the difference?”

          “That you beat yourself up enough trying to pay for all my meds and to put most of the food on our table—”

          Bucky pinched his nose between his fingers, and his eyes squeezed shut. “We are _not_ squabbling about this again, and not on the side of the road. We can’t take a bus, we can’t beg. We gotta walk.”

          Steve sighed. Usually he was up for a fight, but really—Bucky was right.

          “Okay.”

          Bucky’s eyes reopened, and he stared at him, eyebrows raised.

          “Okay?” he repeated incredulously. “You’re giving in?”

          Steve shrugged. He spread his hands. “We don’t have a lot of options here, Buck.”

          “No,” Bucky agreed, seeming glad to have avoided a tiff. “No, we don’t.”

          Except they were half-jogging to beat the nighttime and the gang that had been prowling this part of the city recently after dark, and Steve didn’t make it more than three blocks before his asthma started disagreeing with the light exercise and the setting sun, and they had to stop until Bucky was satisfied that he was breathing normally once again. They leaned against a building, partially shaded, for a few minutes before Bucky jerked his head back down the road.

          “Not even halfway there,” he said. Steve took a breath, balled his fists, and nodded.

          The inhaler helped, and so did slowing their pace. Steve actually felt pretty much fine by the time they made it back to their apartment (unscathed, blissfully), which Bucky pointed out was some kind of miracle (Steve valiantly tried to shove him down a storm drain for that crack, which only served to make Bucky laugh harder and pin both Steve’s hands in his big ones, to which Steve said, “At least wait ‘til we get inside, big guy.”) and which Steve felt meant that his light, near-daily exercise of picking fights was finally starting to pay off, if only a little bit.

          Their air conditioner was broken for the fourth time in the past two months, and however much Bucky had been insisting he was going to roll up his sleeves and fix it himself for at least a week, he hadn’t gotten around to it yet, and if they couldn’t afford to buy a train ticket home then they certainly couldn’t afford to hire a professional. As it was, they started stripping almost as soon as they got into the apartment (Steve at least made it to the bedroom). Steve shucked everything except his undershirt and boxers; Bucky just toed off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, and let his suspender straps hang down by his waist instead. Now that they were alone, Steve eyed him with abandon.

          “Who are you trying to look good for around here, huh?” he challenged. “No girls around here. Tonight,” he added.

          Bucky rolled his eyes and tugged Steve closer by the arm. Steve tripped over to him gladly. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes and Bucky. Steve had missed that over the course of the (exhausting, alienating) day, that scent he classified as _home_ and which was too unique to capture in words or pictures (Steve knew. He had tried.) but which was just so fundamentally _Bucky_. There was no duplicating it, no explaining it away, no classifying it at all. Bucky was Bucky, and Steve loved him so much.

          “Would ya shut up?” Bucky said. “Who said I’m trying to impress anyone?”

          Steve shook his head.

          “You’re as transparent as glass,” he said fondly.

          Bucky’s affront faded as Steve stepped closer into the cradle of his arms. His chest was firm when Steve planted his hands there, and his lips were pliant when Steve stretched up on his toes to press their mouths together.  At first, it was chaste, just a light press of their lips against each other. The faint scent of perfume lingering around Bucky’s collar, when he caught a whiff of it, only sent a thrill down his spine. Yeah, Dot had been here. But was she _here_?

          “Been wanting to do that all day,” Bucky sighed as Steve disengaged and landed back on his feet.

          “Oh yeah?” Steve teased. “What was stopping you?”

          Bucky rolled his eyes and reached out to ruffle Steve’s hair. Steve batted at him.

          “Punk,” he said affectionately. “All _day_.”

          After a moment, Steve admitted, “So have I.”

          Bucky’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah? You getting jealous again? You know I don’t mind if it winds up like last time—”

          “After _last time_ ,” Steve said meaningfully, “we agreed that we weren’t going to get jealous streaks anymore.”

          Bucky snorted. “Actually, I believe my end was not to tell girls to take a hike if they weren’t interested in you. Or, you know, if they were being blatantly fuckin’ rude about it.”

          “Well, you showed a hell of a lot of restraint today, Buck,” Steve assured him.

          Bucky rolled his eyes again, but he gave this playful little growl that Steve really, really liked right before he tugged him back up into another kiss. Steve hummed against his mouth. He was just starting to get into it, tugging Bucky’s hair between his fingers and opening his mouth a little wider to catch the tip of Bucky’s tongue with it flicked out and grazed his lower lip. He was starting to hope that he was maybe about to get hefted up so he could wrap his legs around Bucky’s waist and really devour him, when Bucky suddenly pulled away from him.

          “Just remembered something,” he said, while Steve made a noise of dissatisfaction about the current lack of kissing. It must have shown on his face, because Bucky chuckled and held a finger up at him. “I’m being a fuckin’ romantic, dollface, hold up for one goddamn minute.”

          So Steve was left standing there in his boxers and t-shirt, alone in their bedroom (technically _Steve’s_ bedroom, but at this point Bucky’s was more for show than because anybody slept in there), while Bucky disappeared back into the living room. Steve started tidying up a little for lack of anything better to do while he waited, but also because he would be damned before he was found just waiting around for Bucky to come back and ravish him the way he wanted (even if he _had_ been aching for all day), but he barely had one shirt thrown into the hamper when Bucky came swaggering back in, looking pleased as punch with himself. His hands were carefully concealed behind his back. Steve arched one eyebrow and jerked his chin at him.

          “What do you have there?”

          Bucky’s cheeks were red, but there were also lines of determination there when he took his arms out from behind his back and brandished something in Steve’s face. Steve blinked at it for a couple of seconds to get it into focus. Then his mouth fell open a little.

          “For my best gal,” Bucky said after a long moment of silence.

          As his brain came back together—Bucky was rarely romantic, and he didn’t really know how to be _romantic_ , just charming, so when he pulled it off it seemed way bigger than it really was, but even Steve had to admit that this time, this was really something else—Steve clicked his jaw shut and he shook his head, smiling.

          “Can’t believe you forgot to give this to Dot,” he said.

          Bucky’s eyes gleamed for just a second before he shrugged, falling back into his usual air of unaffected indifference.

          “Can’t believe I forgot,” he agreed.

          They just stood there for a second, grinning at each other. Then, as Bucky thrust it at him again, Steve’s grin slowly transformed into a smirk.

          “You sap,” he accused lowly.

          Bucky beamed. “You’re damn right I am. But only for you, sweetheart.”

          Steve took the teddy bear Bucky had offered him and cradled it gently in one arm for a moment, then turned to set it upright on the end table on his side of the bed, leaning against the little clock he had there. They stood there for a second, side by side, considering it.

          “Think she looks good there?”

          Bucky was silent. Steve looked over at him. He had his arms crossed and his head tilted like he was genuinely thinking about the question.

          Eventually, he said, “So it’s a she then, huh?”

          “Figure we should have some estrogen in the house that isn’t coming from you,” said Steve.

          Bucky shoved him lightly in the shoulder. It was forceful enough that Steve tripped sideways a little, but he was snickering when he resituated himself by Bucky’s side and grabbed his hand. Bucky looked over at him, eyes and smile warm.

          “Thank you,” Steve said sincerely.

          Bucky grinned and tipped Steve’s chin up. The kiss he afforded him was light and sweet.

          “You gonna name her?” Bucky asked against his lips.

          Steve had lost the thread of the conversation somewhere between Bucky’s hand and the expanse of his shoulders that he was currently mapping out with his other hand, but he smiled when he remembered what they were talking about, and nudged his nose gently against Bucky’s before pressing another kiss to his willing mouth.

          “I already have,” Steve breathed. Bucky froze, and Steve knew he was waiting for the punchline. He grinned when he smugly announced: “ _Dottie_.”

          “You _punk_!” Bucky crowed.

          Bucky managed to flatten him on his back on the bed (Steve told himself it was because he let him win their wrestling match, which Bucky assured him was the case) and started absolutely peppering his face with kisses light enough to send Steve’s heart hammering against his ribcage, until he thought he might pass out and he had to lay down for a minute because he was laughing too hard and because his heart was pumping way too much love into his veins to keep going. Bucky was laughing too as they flattened themselves out on the pillows on their respective sides of the bed; between them, their hands lay still entwined on the sheets. For a moment, it was quiet as they both caught their breaths. Steve wasn’t sure it was because either of them had exerted much energy.

          “You’re one hell of a date, Steve Rogers.”

          Steve rolled over to press his grin into the hollow of Bucky’s throat.

          “You’re one hell of a pain in my ass, James Barnes.”

          Bucky pressed his fingers into the spaces between Steve’s ribs until he was laughing again, rolling around on the bed and swatting at Bucky’s hands as they tickled him unrelentingly, until Steve was pretty sure he was going to cry from how hard he was laughing. Bucky had this beautiful twist to his wretched mouth as he watched Steve scrambling beneath him, and they were laughing loud enough to annoy the neighbors and squirming hard enough to shake the ceiling, and they couldn’t stop leaning in for kisses in between brutal tickling and accidental kicks to the shins.

          Finally, Bucky let up a little, and they collapsed back onto the mattress.

          “Pain—in—my— _ass_!” Steve managed to grit out again, when he had caught his breath a little bit. He could still hardly breathe, but that was maybe because he was getting hit with unrelenting whiffs of _Bucky_ again.

          “You’re damn right,” Bucky said proudly.

          He caught Steve’s fingers in his own and Steve looked over at him, so beautiful spread out on the other half of the bed like this. His hair was wild, carelessly tousled but still with the gel he had used to slick it back that morning. His lips were faintly red, not enough to really notice, but Steve’s heart was hammering because he had did that, he had undone this beautiful man that was watching him with a wide smile, and he was all his for the taking. Bucky’s eyes were shining as he brought Steve’s hand to his lips and pressed kisses across it, on his fingers, on his palm, on the back of his hand. Steve wanted to laugh again, giddily.

          “You’re damn right,” Bucky whispered against his hand, still kissing it over and over and over again. “I’m gonna be grinding your gears for the rest of your goddamn life.”

          Steve grinned. He cupped Bucky’s cheek in his palm and rubbed his thumb in gentle circles there, until Bucky’s smile dimmed and turned soft and lulled with all the love Steve could give him.

          “You’re damn right.”

**Author's Note:**

> literally my first marvel fic ever, so...be gentle? maybe? meh, crit's fine too.
> 
>  
> 
> [xoxox](http://bkinney.tumblr.com/post/144278721795)


End file.
